


Unwind

by eiluned



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bath Sex, F/M, Plot What Plot, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-05
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 12:56:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Natasha has a crappy day, finds Clint in her bathtub, and nearly shoots him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chezamanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chezamanda/gifts).



> We both needed cuddly fic. She requested cuddling in a bathtub. I got a little dirtier than that. ;) Feedback makes me a happy fangirl.

It had been a long fucking day. There had been a small army of killer robots, a maniacal evil scientist, and a particularly hung-over and grumpy Iron Man, and Natasha just wanted some peace and goddamn quiet. But no, Fury wanted a full debriefing, and since she was the one who actually paid attention on missions, she to recount every damn thing that had happened. Those were two hours of her life she would never get back.

Her apartment was blessedly warm and quiet, and she was ready to lick her wounds in peace. Her back was sore and her head was aching, and she was really, really looking forward to taking a shower and sleeping for the next three days.

When she dropped her jacket on the couch, something caught her attention. The apartment wasn't as quiet as she'd originally thought; someone was in her bathroom. Pulling her pistol from its holster, she thumbed off the safety and crept into her bedroom, listening hard. Faint light was flickering underneath the bathroom door, and she heard a quiet splash. Taking a deep breath, she kicked the door open.

And found Clint in her bathtub.

He had lit candles--he must have brought them over, because she certainly didn't have sandalwood candles in her apartment--and filled the tub with steaming water. Two glasses of white wine were perched on the edge of the tub, and the bottle was on the floor, just within reach.

"I kept the water hot for you," he said with a crooked grin.

"Jesus, Clint," she said, clicking the safety back on and putting her gun on the counter. "I could have shot you."

"Heard you had a bad day," he said, putting his arms behind his head and sinking a little lower in the water.

"Let's put you on Tony Stark babysitting duty and see how great of a day you have," she grumbled, pinning her hair up on top of her head.

"Take your clothes off and get in here with me," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent warmth flooding through her body.

He watched her undress with his eyes half-closed, swirling the wine in his glass, and by the time she was naked, she could see that he was very interested. When she stepped into the tub, he slid a warm, wet hand up her leg and pressed a kiss against her hipbone. "Let's get you relaxed," he murmured, guiding her to sit between his legs with her back against him.

Natasha sank into the hot water, letting out a gusty sigh. Clint put a glass of wine in her hand, and she obediently tossed it back. He ran his hands over her back, and she obediently leaned forward so he could massage her sore muscles. When he pressed his thumbs against the back of her neck and dragged them down between her shoulder blades, she let out a soft moan of relief, and when his hands slipped around her ribs to cup her breasts, that moan was a little louder.

He took the glass from her hand and then pulled her back against his chest, rolling her nipples between his fingers, and it felt amazingly good. Dropping her head back to rest on his shoulder, she squeezed her thighs together, torn between pressing herself back against the solid heat of his body and arching up into his intensely clever hands.

Letting out a low rumble of pleasure, he slid a hand up to her chin, tipping her face toward his and giving her a kiss that made her toes curl, stroking his tongue against hers, all the while teasing her nipples and squeezing her breasts. "God, you're beautiful," he said. "I want to make you come."

She whimpered when he slid his left hand down her stomach and between her legs. He rubbed his fingers against her clit, teasing until it was swollen and she was whimpering. "Clint..." she gasped, grasping his forearms when his fingers sped up to a pace that would quickly make her lose her mind. "Clint..."

"Oh baby," he groaned against her ear. "I love you, Tasha. I want you to come for me."

He thrust two fingers inside of her, grinding the heel of his hand against her clit, and she came with a loud cry, her fingers digging into his arms and her face pressed against his jaw.

He knew exactly how to wring every last shiver of pleasure out of her body. There were many reasons why she loved him, but she had to admit that was near the top of her list. When he finally slipped his fingers out of her body, she was completely boneless against him.

"Mmm," he hummed, stroking her thighs. "Feel better?"

"God, I love you," she mumbled, nuzzling his neck, and he chuckled.

She started to turn over to take care of him, but he wrapped his arms around her, holding her still. "Don't worry about that, babe," he said. "You just relax."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. Don't worry. We can take care of that in the morning," he said.

"After you make me French toast?" she said, and he squeezed her.

"Whatever you want, babe," he said with a chuckle.

Turning a little, she cuddled up against him, slipping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder, and he held her close, stroking her back. It had been a long fucking day, but it had ended well. Natasha was okay with that.


End file.
